


I'm Always With You

by blarkeontheark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, But I hope you enjoy, F/M, Kabby, So much angst, a nice fic, also, and Jake, and kane, and so much angst, and then, anyway, during the hiatus i'm gonna write so much bellarke its not even funny, high school abby, honestly have fun, i ended up writing just so many tears, i had to cram like 34 years into less than 10000 words, i said to myself, i wanted to stretch this out a lot more but, i'm ADD and don't have the patience, it's great, maybe it's time to write something happy, so this is kind of a snapshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:17:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarkeontheark/pseuds/blarkeontheark
Summary: The story of Abby Griffin's life, from her junior year of high school until her daughter's sixteenth birthday. And, spoiler alert: it didn't go as planned.





	I'm Always With You

**Author's Note:**

> yo okay so i keep seeing everyone using walters as abby's maiden name and i'm not sure where that came from and i'm pretty sure it's not canon but whatever i'm going with it. have fun reading my procrastination-and-tears-induced eight-thousand-word attempt at channeling my feelings into fanfiction. feel free to leave comments bc those are the bomb. -max

It had taken some work, but she had finally managed to slip away from Clarke’s sixteenth birthday. 

It was wrong, she knew. It was an important highlight in her daughter's life, one she would regret missing. But she couldn't bring herself to join the ceremony. 

She needed to walk. 

So she set on the trail up Mt Weather. 

…

September 16th, 34 years earlier

"Psssssst."

The Ark School. A new year, a new school. New annoying boys in her biology class. 

Abby Walters examined the end of her long brown plait. It could use a trim, she decided. 

"Walters. Nice hair."

She lifted her chin and stared out the window, willing herself not to give them the satisfaction of reacting to their taunts. She was a head shorter than the other girls in her class and probably not destined to grow any taller, but that didn't mean she had to be a shrinking violet. 

"Walters."

She finally glanced over at a different whisper. "What?"

"You're Abby Walters, aren't you?" It was a tall boy with a hooked nose and a tangle of brown hair. He was good-looking in a sort of chiseled way, but he also seemed very standoffish. Abby hadn't ever caught his name. 

"That's me," she said shortly. 

"My name's Marcus Kane." He leaned forward. "Listen, I just—I wanted to know if you could help me with question seven."

Abby glanced at his paper. Sure enough, it was fill of cramped, boxy letters surrounding every question except the seventh. 

"Seven?" She leaned forward. "Sure. That's the one about Darwin's Theory of Evolution."

"Evolution. Right. Duh." He bent over his paper again and began writing furiously. "I remember. Thanks, Walters."

"No problem."

"Hey, Walters," someone yelled. "I have a problem you can help me with."

"Oh, leave her alone," the boy across from her called. "She didn't do anything to you."

"You're such a goody-two-shoes, Griffin."

The boy grinned, tossing his blond hair. "At least I'm pretty."

Abby rolled her eyes, only to catch Kane rolling his, too. They locked eyes, and he broke into a tentative smile. 

And that was Abby's first friend at Ark. 

…

February 19th, 33 years earlier

"Yo."

Jake Griffin fell into step behind Abby as she headed towards the cafeteria. 

"What is it, Griffin?"

"Come to lunch with me?"

"I'm meeting a friend," she said. "And also, no."

"Who, Cartwig? She can chill for a day. Come on, sit with me and—"

"No, I'm going to help Marcus with homework."

Jake snorted. "Kane? Really?"

Abby's cheeks flamed. "Jesus, Griffin, I'm a peer tutor. This is my job."

"Right. I forgot. Smart Abby has to go do smart things with smart people. Except Kane isn't that smart."

"Marcus is plenty smart, actually," she countered. "And you know it, too. You're friends with him. You just like to give him a hard time."

"I like to give everyone a hard time."

"I've noticed," Abby said dryly.

Jake burst out laughing. "Listen, if you won't sit with me today, how about tomorrow?"

Abby considered it. "No."

"Abby?"

Marcus was already in line, holding out an extra tray. "Hey, Griffin," he called. 

"Bye, Griffin," Abby said decisively, steering in the opposite direction. 

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Griffin bothering you?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "As usual," she said. 

But she was smiling. 

…

If only she'd known. 

She climbed up a steep slope, using a rock to pivot herself onto the path. Her hand wrapped around a tree. 

If only…so many things.

…

September 9th, 33 years earlier

"Whoa!"

Her hand flailed, wrapped around a wrist. 

"Jesus, Abby."

Her head jerked up, searching for who she had so roughly grabbed to avoid tripping. Her eyes landed on a hooked nose and a mop of dark hair. 

"Sorry, Marcus," she breathed. "Holy shit, you got tan! Where were you this summer?"

"Happy first day of senior year to you, too," he said seriously, but his eyes betrayed his smile. "California, actually. I have a friend out there who's moving here soon, and I wanted to help him pack some stuff."

"Is he coming to Ark?"

"No, he graduated last year. He's going to work for NASA."

"Wow." Abby thought of her own vague plans for medical school. "And you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what I want to do. I'm thinking of studying English, becoming a teacher."

"What grades would you want to teach?" 

Their feet traced a familiar path as they walked—homeroom, the same one they'd shared all last year. It wasn't quite the same. They were much more familiar than they had been. 

"Maybe middle school." His lips quirked into a grin. "Ah, middle school. The worst years of my life."

Abby opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a squeal. 

"Abby!"

Marcus was swept away by a crowd of students as Callie darted forward to hug her. 

"How was your summer?"

"I—uh—" Abby somehow found herself at a loss for words. "Fine," she finished lamely. "Just fine."

"Were you talking to Kane?" Callie craned her neck, dark bob falling across her face. "He got kinda hot over the summer, huh? But so did Griffin. Man, have you seen Griffin yet?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "You know how I feel about Jake Griffin."

"Just wait," Callie swore. "Come on, let's get to homeroom. I have so much to tell you."

Smiling, Abby let her friend pull her down the hall. 

…

December 18th, 33 years earlier

"Are you finished?"

Marcus slumped onto her couch with a sigh. "Barely. I'm so glad seniors get this extra week off. I only just finished all my college essays and I can barely stay awake."

"You didn't have to come over. I could have called Callie."

"Don't be ridiculous. We are having a Harry Potter marathon, and we are having it now. I just need coffee."

"I am not making coffee at 8 PM. I can, however, make hot chocolate," Abby offered. 

"You can't fool me. I know you have no clue how to make hot chocolate."

"Shit," Abby exclaimed. "Have I already tried that on you?"

The easy banter seemed to be working. Marcus looked slightly more awake, flipping through the eight DVDs on Abby's coffee table. 

"Hey, where are your parents?" he asked suddenly. "They're not joining us for movie night?"

"Nah, they went out for a while. I told them a friend was coming over, but I didn't specify what gender, in case they decided to stay in. They would have made us use the basement TV, and that thing is basically a tube."

"Smart thinking. But don't your parents trust me?"

"I think it's me they don't trust." Abby deliberately avoided his eyes as she poured the milk into mugs. She wasn't sure why; she didn't feel that way about Marcus. 

Obviously. 

"You know how to work that thing?" she called, watching him fiddle with the DVD player. 

"No. This thing is so old. Jesus Christ, can't you get Netflix?"

Abby laughed. "Spoilsport. It still works just as well." 

There was a crash as she dropped the milk onto the floor. Thankfully, the carton didn't break, and she quickly mopped up the milk on the floor with a paper towel. 

"You know how to work that thing?" Marcus joked, repeating her earlier words. 

"I might need a little help," Abby admitted. 

"Did you try putting the cocoa mixture into the milk instead of the other way around?"

Abby bit her lip and didn't answer.

"Walters, I swear to God."

Abby laughed as he abandoned his efforts with the DVD player and poured her failed concoction down the sink. "How about you go deal with HP and I'll clean up this mess?"

"Sounds like a plan." Abby knocked her shoulder into his arm and wound her way across the room to the DVD player. "For God's sake, Marcus, did you try to jam the DVD into the tape hole?"

"The what now?" 

Their eyes met, across the room. His were a perfectly medium shade of brown, she noticed, like coffee. Or hot chocolate.

"The place you put the VHS tapes?"

"Abby, I don't speak caveman."

She had to suppress a grin. 

…

January 23rd, 32 years earlier

"Psst." 

Homeroom. Monday. Marcus leaned over, waving an envelope in front of Abby's face, blank side up. 

"Don't tell me." Abby bumped her leg against his desk. "You got accepted into Arkadia?"

"How did you know?" Marcus dropped his envelope. "You haven't gotten a letter yet."

She reached over into her bag and pulled out a thick white envelope, grinning triumphantly. 

"Your first choice, still?" she asked him. 

"Yeah." His smile disappeared. "But it isn't your first choice. Polis is your first choice."

"For now," Abby cautioned. "I've heard really good things about Arkadia's medical program."

"Arkadia's only a ten-hour drive from Polis," Marcus said. "We could still Skype all the time."

"Ten hours."

"It's not that bad, in the long run. Or the long drive, I should say.”

There was a whoop from across the room as Jake Griffin tossed a familiar-looking envelope into the air. 

"Dude, what school?" Thelonious Jaha yelled from across the room. 

"Arkadia!" Jake yelled. 

Abby dropped her head onto her desk with a groan. "Polis is sounding better by the minute."

"Polis is such a hoity-toity school," Callie commented, dropping into the chair beside Abby. "You'll definitely get in, Abby. But Arkadia is such a good school—I'm proud of you."

"It is good," Abby echoed, staring at the envelope. 

Jake Griffin was going to Arkadia. 

But Marcus Kane was also going. 

And they had an amazing medical program—better than Polis's, even. 

Polis had such an industrial campus. Arkadia's was green, and they had a butterfly sanctuary. 

Polis was more expensive. 

"I'm going to tour Arkadia," she said. "I've already toured Polis. And then I'm going to make my decision."

"You should do what you really want to do," Marcus said. "I mean, it would be great to go to school with you, but this is about your life, Abby."

"You're part of my life," Abby said quickly. 

Their eyes locked. 

Callie coughed meaningfully. "SO. I got into Arkadia too, as well as TonDC."

"Oh, really?" Abby shot Marcus an apologetic smile and turned to her other friend. 

They had plenty of time to talk later. 

…

May 21st, 31 years earlier. 

"Why does it feel like I never see you?" 

Abby swore loudly as she dropped a box on her foot. "Uh. Because we don't share any classes. And because of Ana."

"Ana." Marcus rolled his eyes. "You know I never liked her all that much."

"Yeah, yeah. You're trying to get over someone else. Which, by the way, you still won't tell me who that is." Abby slammed the door shut behind them. "Dibs on the east-facing bedroom!”

"Damn it," Marcus complained. 

They had planned to split the rent on an apartment four ways for the summer and second year of Arkadia: her, Callie, Marcus and Jake. However, circumstances had changed, and Jake had decided to share with other people, while Callie was staying with her grandparents. That left Abby and Marcus to split the rent, which was okay for both of them. It did, however, merit the unavoidable decorations debate. 

"Are you ever going to tell me?" Abby asked, shuffling the box to the center of the room, and peeking inside. "Really, Marcus? Christmas decorations? It's May."

"These go in my room until further notice," Marcus said stubbornly. "And for your information, my whole dorm floor thanked me last year for this."

"Is that why you won the competition? I knew it couldn't be because of your Christmas spirit," Abby teased. She glanced around at the small apartment. "Honestly, I think having Callie and Jake here would have just made it crowded." She crossed to a window, tugging open the dusty curtain. "I still find it so weird that they flaked."

"Weird. Yeah." Marcus was inspecting a random spot on the floor, expression suspiciously blank. 

"Marcus Kane." Abby's hands found her hips. "You know something."

"Hmm?"

"They're not, like...dating, are they?"

"I think they would have stayed here if they were."

"So then why did they leave?" 

He was looking at her. Not staring, just looking. As if she was something he knew like the back of his hand, and yet still different enough to be something complex and ever-changing. 

It was then that she realized that she looked at him the same way. 

And that blew her 'best friends platonically rooming together' scenario out of the water. 

So if they weren't platonic, what were they?

"I think...they knew..." Marcus exhaled. "They wanted to give me time to tell...you..."

"What?"

She knew, knew before he even said it. 

"I'm in love with you, Abby. I have been since eleventh grade, when you marched into biology class and all those boys teased you, and you didn't care; you sat straighter and pushed your hair out of your face and kicked ass in that class. And you got into Arkadia. And now you're going to become a doctor and save lives, and you are just the most beautiful human being I have ever met.” He took a deep breath, speaking quickly, not meeting her eyes. “And even through all that, you took time to be friends with me, and get me through that class. And you didn’t care that I was incompetent at biology, and a total history nerd, and—“

“Marcus.”

“And you also suck at making hot chocolate.”

She had to bite back a laugh. “Jesus, Marcus.”

“This was probably a bad time to tell you,” he said, nudging a box with his toe. “Right as we’re moving in together, and all that.”

“Marcus!”

He finally looked up at her then, and she silently cursed herself for not looking nicer—sweaty tank top, jean shorts, hair slicked back into an unflattering ponytail. 

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too.”

“Seriously?” 

She reached up to move a chunk of hair that had fallen in his eyes. “I’ve been trying not to think about it,” she admitted. “Because if I admitted it to myself…it would have been that much harder to hide.”

Their noses were almost brushing. She angled her head slightly, touching her forehead to his—

“Hey!”

Abby groaned, taking a step backwards. “Callie, is that you?”

The girl poked her head in the door. “Thought I’d help you guys unpack. Sorry I’m not bunking with you guys—would have been fun. Maybe next year?”

Abby smirked at Marcus. “We’ll see how the rooming situation goes.”

Now leave, she chanted silently. One glance at the boy next to her and she could tell he was thinking the same thing.

Callie aimed a finger at Abby. “What is up with you? You’ve got that look on your face, the one you had when I caught you and that one guy—what was his name—kissing in the back of Emerson’s classroom during lunch.”

“I do not,” Abby protested weakly.

“Wait.” Callie’s head swiveled as she looked between them. “Did I interrupt something? Some sort of mutual declaration of love? Was all it took for Jake and I to leave you alone for literally one day? You got your shit together faster than I thought—“

“Out!” Abby commanded. 

Callie sauntered for the exit, grinning, pulling out her phone. “Text me,” she mouthed to Abby.

“I will not!” Abby exclaimed.

The sound of Callie’s hysterical laughter echoed as she slammed the door shut.

“Christ,” Marcus muttered. “Where were we?” 

Abby touched his cheek lightly, shifting his face slightly downwards so she could press her lips to his. 

The kiss was slow, light, gentle. Their first kiss, the two who had been best friends for three years, the two who had set out to move in together platonically but now, on moving day, found it to be something more. 

They broke apart, Abby’s hand still resting on his shoulder, foreheads still pressed together.

“We should probably start unpacking those boxes,” Marcus mumbled.

Abby laughed and pulled away. “That might be a good idea. And you know Jake will be calling you in about ten seconds to find out exactly what happened between us."

“Jake fucking Griffin,” Marcus grumbled. “Remember how you used to hate him?”

“I used to despise him,” Abby reminisced. “He was such an asshole until maybe…six months ago?”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Not anymore.”

Marcus’s phone buzzed just then, and his mother’s face appeared on the screen. “Crap, it’s Mom. Mind if I take this?”

“Go ahead. Say hi to Vera for me,” Abby called as he ambled into the east-facing room, knowing he’d find a way to take it before she got a chance to put her stuff in there. Damn him. Damn him for being smart and beautiful and always taking his mother’s calls. 

Damn her for falling in love with him. 

…

Abby could no longer remember many of her college years. Thankfully, her phone could do that for her. 

Summoning the willpower, she typed the year into her Photos app and pressed enter, watching as the memories flooded back. 

There were so many photos. Photos of the sunny apartment she and Marcus had shared for seven years. Photos of the tiny tree he'd insisted live on the windowsill. Photos of the three of them when Callie moved in for a year, and then got tired of their couple-yness. Photos of her, holding a flower. A photo of him kissing her on the cheek. Photos of her studying for finals, his enthusiastically grinning face in the foreground as he snapped the shot of her surrounded by drained cups of coffee. Her personal favorite: the four of them during their first year of Arkadia, the one that was her phone background.

Her hair had been so long. His was too. He had the faint beginnings of a beard in that picture, and his hair had always been hanging in his eyes. She was constantly pushing it back, trying to tuck it behind his ears. One Christmas, she'd given him sparkly barrettes as a gag gift. And much to her chagrin, he'd worn them to class. 

And then, scrolling forward, her 25th birthday. A full-time job at a small medical facility nearby. They'd had the apartment for six years, and had no plans to move out anytime soon. 

…

February 8th, 25 years earlier

It was just the two of them that night. Callie had sent her a nice email and an Amazon gift card. Jake had fallen out of touch several years earlier, and had never been close anyway, so she didn't really expect to hear from him. Her parents had both wished her a happy birthday and expressed regret that she wasn't visiting, and she'd spent the day with a few friends. 

But tonight, it was her and Marcus, and way too much cake. 

"I cannot eat any more of this," Abby sighed, leaning back in her chair and fiddling with the silver hoops in her ears. Her hair was growing out again, and it fell in waves down her shoulders. "God, Marcus, this is the best birthday ever."

"Really?" He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

"Really. Well, any birthday with you is," she amended. "And, hey—no more finals to worry about this year. No angry stress phase."

"I feel like—with both of us done school, and you working at Jacobs, and me picking up substitute teaching positions—this is a new phase in our lives," he said cautiously. 

"Mmhm." Abby, despite her earlier announcement, took another forkful of cake and smiled at him. 

"You are also the best thing that's ever happened to me," he continued softly. 

"I love you, Marcus."

"That's what I was hoping for."

She glanced up as he slid from his seat. 

And got down one one knee. 

"I..."

"I thought I could wait a while," he said. "Wait until we've both nailed down a life, found a bigger place. But no matter what, Abby, I want to spend it with you. And I don't really want to wait."

Her mouth worked. She couldn't seem to emit sound, form words. 

"I stand by what I said when we were nineteen. I am in love with you, and I have been since eleventh grade, and you are still and forever the most beautiful human being I have ever met."

"My hot chocolate skills are still lacking," she finally managed. 

"If you marry me, I swear to you, I will always make the hot chocolate."

She dropped her head into her hands, trying to control the smile rapidly taking over her face. "Jesus. Yes, Marcus, of course I will marry you."

He looked astonished. "Really?"

"Did you think I'd say no?" Despite the situation, she couldn't help but laugh. 

It was fitting, she supposed. He always made her laugh when nothing else could. 

He really was her soulmate. 

"I couldn't bring myself to hope you'd say yes."

"Marcus, I love you," she said quietly. "I love you, and I will always love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered. 

The ring on her finger was beautiful, but somehow Abby couldn't tear her eyes from the man across from her. 

…

There were a dozen photos of that night, and Abby scrolled through all of them. 

And God, how she wished he had held off. 

Waited another year, maybe two. They had been so young. So unbelievably young. 

…  
July 1st, 24 years earlier

"Have you staked out a date yet?" Callie asked. 

Abby squeezed the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she held her cactus under the sink. "Not yet," she hummed. "We're thinking maybe next spring. Or fall. Nobody wants a summer wedding."

"I want a summer wedding," Callie protested. Abby could hear shuffling in the background, and knew she was compulsively organizing her bookshelf for the seventh time this month. 

"Callie, you're always cold."

The door swung open and Marcus walked in, laden down with groceries. He shot Abby a smile and nudged the door shut with his foot. 

"Gotta go," Abby told her friend. "I'll talk to you later."

"Mmhm." Abby could hear Callie's smirk over the phone. "Bye."

The line went dead. Abby set her phone on the table and wound her way across the room, lifting two bags to the counter and beginning to unload them. 

"What'd Callie want?" Marcus asked. 

"Oh, the usual. Wedding plans, updates on her cat. I've told her she should just marry her cat and leave me alone."

Marcus laughed. "Is that the one that eats toilet paper, so she has to lock her own bathroom doors from the outside?"

"That's the one. Her name is Lucy. It's short for Lucifer."

"Nice. I bet Jake had a hand in that one."

"He's the one who gave Callie the cat for her birthday," Abby reminded him. "We all knew she'd be a crazy cat lady."

The whole scene felt like something out of a movie, Abby thought. Watering the plants, unloading groceries together, joking about phone calls to their mutual friends. 

It felt so perfect. So unrealistically, fairy-tale perfect. 

…

January 26th, 23 years earlier

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." It was the fifth time he'd asked that day, and it was starting to become irritating, which unnerved her. She and Marcus rarely fought, and they had twice in the past month. 

First, it was about potentially getting a dog. Then, it was about his habit of never putting the dishes in the dishwasher. And she was sorely tempted to give him hell for letting the cactus that she'd kept alive for six years die when he overwatered it. 

"You don't look fine."

"I'm reading a book!" Abby exclaimed angrily. "Can't you stop haranguing me about my facial expressions for five minutes?"

"Abby, Jesus. I'm not haranguing you."

"It sure seems like it."

It wasn't right. 

Something wasn't right. 

And she hoped to God it was only temporary. 

…

August 16th, 23 years earlier

"This is ridiculous," Abby snapped. 

She was near her breaking point. And Marcus was too. 

The past year had been their worst yet. They had always been able to rely on each other, draw strength from each other. But she had taken the night shift, and he was teaching all day, and their schedules conflicted so much they never saw each other. He graded work during his downtime. She slept during hers. 

"Abby."

"You know what? I'll talk to you when you feel like talking."

"I feel like talking now. You just don't feel like talking about the same things."

"You are acting like—"

"I don't want to hear it, Abby."

There were no wedding plans. Callie had stopped asking. The ring on her finger had started to feel like a dead weight. 

Her laptop lay on the table, loaded to a page of apartments available to rent. All of them were one-bedroom. And though she and Marcus had shared a room for the past four years, she didn't feel up to sharing one anymore. For the past month and a half, she'd been sleeping in one of the extra bedrooms in the apartment. 

This old apartment. Callie had lived here once. Jake was supposed to live here. It felt full of the ghosts of their college lives, and a prison for their adult selves. 

They had changed. And they had changed in a way that was not right for each other. 

"I'm done."

"What? You're done with what?" Marcus sighed. 

Abby hadn't even realized she'd spoken aloud, but her brain slowly caught up to the rest of her body as she calmly removed her engagement ring and set it on the table. 

"One week," she said. "I'll be out of here."

"What?" His angry expression had vanished, and now he just looked shocked. 

"Marcus, come on," she said gently. "You know as well as I do that we can't do this anymore."

"I never pegged you for a quitter." He didn't mean it, and she could tell. 

"I'm not quitting. I'm moving forward with my life." She sighed, running a hand through her brown waves. "I..."

He waited. Waited for the "I love you" that wasn't coming. 

"I think you should too," was what she finally said. 

"You're serious." He stepped forward. "This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision."

"No," she said quietly.

"You've found a place."

She nodded. 

"You're leaving."

She could hear the silent "me" at the end of the sentence. 

She didn't know how to reply. 

"'I have no joy of this contract tonight,'" she finally whispered. "'It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, ere one can say "it lightens."'" 

"Romeo and Juliet," Marcus recognized dully, English major that he was. "Is that what we were? Rash and sudden?"

She bit her lip. "I wouldn't trade our time together for anything."

To his credit, he didn't try to convince her to stay. 

"I wouldn't either," he said. 

Abby's phone beeped as her alarm went off. 

"I've got to get to work," she said robotically. 

"Okay," Marcus said stiffly. 

"Okay," she echoed. 

Neither of them knew what to say as she grabbed her purse and walked out of the apartment, closing the door more gently than she ever had in the past two months. 

And it was only then that she let herself cry.

…

The next few years were the loneliest she'd ever spent. 

The lack of photos was noticeable. She had a few from a cat she'd adopted, before the cat grew a bit too curious and, well, the saying "curiosity killed the cat" had never included a visual of a toaster before that year. 

She didn't speak to Marcus at all. She still followed him on various social media accounts, so she could see what he was up to. He went out with Callie Cartwig for a short time, then moved to Australia. 

She'd told herself it was good riddance. That she didn't need him haunting her life anymore. She unfollowed him on everything she could. She didn't want to keep tabs on his life. He could date whoever he liked. 

He wasn't hers anymore. 

…

March 25th, 20 years earlier

"No way. Abby Walters?"

Abby lifted her head upon hearing her name, eyes falling upon a familiar face. A familiar, rounder, friendlier face than she remembered. 

"Jake Griffin." She blinked, dumbfounded. "What the hell?"

"You look absolutely miserable." Without any invitation, he plunked down beside her and took a sip of her coffee. 

"Thanks a lot."

"No problem. Hey, where's Kane? I would have thought you two would be stuck together like glue—"

"We broke up," Abby said shortly. "Years ago."

"Seriously? You and Kane? Last I heard, you were engaged. I half-expected you to correct me and say you were Abby Kane now."

"Yeah, well, not anymore," Abby said crabbily. "What about you? I would have expected to see you long married. What was her name, that girl in San Francisco? Danica?"

"Danica? Seriously? You must think so lowly of me."

She couldn't help but smirk. "I remember the majority of the time I knew you, you were a huge asshole."

"My asshole phase is over, I swear." He held up his hands, as if in an oath, and Abby couldn't help but notice the lack of a ring. 

"Your relationship status would say otherwise. Unless there's someone else I don't know about?"

"No, there isn't. I just never found the right person," Jake said carelessly. 

"You're only thirty, Griffin. You've got plenty of time."

"For the love of Christ, Abby, we're not in high school anymore. I think you can stop calling me Griffin."

Abby grinned. It was a quick flash of a smile, but a smile nonetheless. 

"Aha." He pointed at her. "I made you laugh. See, I'm already doing better than I did in high school."

"You weren't trying to make me laugh in high school!"

"Actually, I was. I almost asked you to prom senior year, but Kane somehow swept in first."

"No kidding. I thought you hated me." Somehow, the mood that had followed Abby like a storm cloud all day was dissipating, replaced by cheerful conversation. With Jake Griffin, of all people. Sometimes the world could throw her a bone. 

"Hated you? Don't be ridiculous. I tried to sit with you at lunch at least a dozen times."

"How do you remember all this?" Abby asked, fascinated. "High school was a blur of studying and Marcus. That's all I remember."

"You're pretty hard to forget, Abby Walters."

She rolled her eyes. 

"Do you mind if I ask what happened?" he said. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Abby took a deep breath. "We...we were both different people," she said slowly, turning it over in her mind. "We weren't quite right for each other anymore and it wasn't working."

"You were together a long time."

"Nine years." The words blew out of her in one swift rush. "Nine whole years."

"I'm sorry." His hand lightly brushed hers. "That...must have been hard."

"It was," she admitted. She hadn't let herself think it—that she missed him, that part of her screamed to go back. But something about Jake always made the truth come out. "It still is."

"Where is he now?"

"Australia," she sighed. "I don't know anything past that."

"Far," Jake commented. 

They didn't say anything else about Marcus. 

…

That night kicked off a series of text exchanges and, following that, a flurry of phone calls. The two quickly relapsed into the easy friendship they had shared their first year at Arkadia, meeting for coffee once a week and texting for the rest of it. 

And slowly, tentatively, their friendship began to grow into something more. 

She scrolled through the next two years. Pictures of cups of coffee, Jake's laughing face, their booted feet as they walked home through snowdrifts, the day they went swimming with Jake's sister at her lake house and he kissed her on the drive home, both of them soaking wet with water-dried hair. 

…

January 8th, 18 years earlier

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

Abby laughed into the wind, swinging one of her ski poles wildly. It collided with Jake's leg, sending him toppling backwards into the snow. 

"How do I work these?" she yelled, shuffling sideways in her skis to reach him. 

"It's not difficult, Abby. Just don't fall over."

"Says you," she pointed out, extending a hand to help him up. 

"That's different. You're a hazard." He hauled himself to his feet, only to stumble and fall again, knocking her down along with him.

"Shit," she muttered. "What do we do know?"

"We could be ski jumps," Jake suggested. "Or hurdles."

Abby glared. "You're not as funny as you think."

"On the contrary, I am." He smiled at her, leaning forward to lift her ski goggles so that blinding blue light flooded her vision. 

She jerked back, shoving a handful of snow at him. "Jake!"

And he was laughing again, throwing the snow back at her. Abby was aware of how they must look, a couple of adults in their thirties acting like hormonal teenagers in love. 

And somehow, she found she didn't mind. 

…

July 18th, 17 years earlier

They were married. 

It was the wedding she'd been Pinterest-ing for years—everything out of a fairytale. Her dress was lace-sleeved, her dress dusting her toes. She wore thin sandals that still allowed the grass to tickle her feet as she walked down the aisle. 

Her mother gave her away. Her father had died in years past. 

Briefly, she wished that Marcus could have been there. But no, this wasn't a day to think about Marcus Kane. Not when she was marrying Jake Griffin. Not today. 

"Hey," Jake whispered. "I love you."

She smiled. 

It felt perfect, she thought, as the sun brushed the top of his blond head. And who would have thought that she would ever marry Jake Griffin? Not seventeen-year-old her. 

"I love you," she said. 

…

Pictures of the wedding, the cake, Callie eating three slices of cake. Pictures of her and Jake. So many pictures. 

At some point, Abby realized that she was almost to the top of the mountain. It was time to start heading back. 

Back to her daughter. 

…

October 14th, 16 years earlier

"Her name is Clarke," Abby said. 

"Clarke, huh?" Callie smiled at the baby and tickled her foot. "She looks a lot like Jake. Look at that hair."

"She's absolutely precious," Abby agreed. "But, God, she's loud at 3 in the morning."

Callie huffed. "All babies are."

"Ab?"

Abby glanced up with a smile as Jake strolled in, holding a slice of lemon. 

"Ooh, let me," Callie said enthusiastically. 

"What?" Abby squinted. 

"Have you never given a baby lemon?" Jake asked. "Check this out."

Clarke, as it turned out, did not like the lemon, and proceeded to chuck it directly at Abby's eyeball.

…

Callie had filmed the whole lemon incident, and Abby dragged the scroll bar back again and again, listening to her best friend's raucous laugh as baby Clarke flung the lemon at Abby. There was an audible thunk as the lemon collided with her face, and the camera swiveled as Abby vainly tried to fend off the citrus projectile. 

And at the end, a shot of Jake roaring with laughter as he re-emerged with a paper towel. 

The phone flickered and went dead as she re-watched the clip over and over. 

It didn't matter. She could remember the rest clearly enough. 

…

January 2nd, 10 years earlier

It was so bitterly cold. 

Abby had no warmth left to even attempt to shiver. She stood silently in the freezing air as the grave was lowered into the ground. Shovels thunked as dirt was piled over the body.

Images replayed in her mind on loop. The patch of ice she had seen, but failed to point out. The wheels, skidding. She had tried to reach the panic bar. Jake had grabbed the wheel in an attempt to steady the car. The forefront of her mind had been screaming about her shoes being too tight. 

And that was all she could think about, trapped under the trunk of a tulip poplar. 

"Jake," she'd rasped. 

"Abby."

"Jake, are you okay?"

The sound of his ragged breathing filled the space between them. She tried to reach him, to touch his shoulder. 

She hadn't been able to. 

And now his mangled body lay in the ground. And, for the first time in her life, Jake Griffin had no words to make her feel better. 

The mourners dissipated. The ground was frozen. She sank to the lip of the grave, pressing gently on the soft mound of icy dirt.

“Jake,” she sighed. “Jake Griffin. You were right.”

She paused, almost as if waiting for a reply. But the wind whistling between the trees was her only answer.

“You were different," she continued. “You were exactly what I needed.”

She gently brushed the dirt. Her hands were cold and red, but she paid no attention.

“I still need you,” she whispered. “Jake, can you hear me? I love you.”

Footsteps by her right shoulder.

The silhouette of a man with a hooked nose and hair hanging in his eyes shifted as he sat down next to her. His shoe nudged the dirt a little, creating the smallest of imprints.

“You loved him,” the man said.

Abby didn’t look up.

“I’m glad.”

“Why?” The bitterness, she discovered, had not left her tone.

“Because you were happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“Mommy?”

Abby looked up as little Clarke—Clarke, who didn’t yet understand that her father was never coming back—walked over, slipping in her small black flats.

“Is that your daughter?” Marcus asked. She couldn’t decipher his tone, but his face read surprise.

“This is Clarke,” Abby said. “Clarke Griffin.”

“Clarke.” Marcus rose to kneel beside her daughter. “I’m an old friend of your mother’s.”

“Are you Marcus?” Clarke demanded. “I’ve seen a picture of you on Mommy’s phone.”

Marcus glanced at Abby. Abby hesitated, but held out her phone, pressing the button to light up the lockscreen. 

The background was a picture of the four of them at eighteen—Abby with her head turned to the side, laughing at a joke Marcus had made, hair flying in her face; Marcus, his arm around her shoulders, grinning into the camera; Jake, on Abby's other side, holding the camera and laughing; and Callie on Jake's right, posing dramatically with a smoothie and tossing her hair. 

Marcus seemed speechless, staring at the phone long after the screen faded and went black. "Abby..."

"Marcus Kane?"

The two stood up quickly as a familiar, black-clad figure approached. 

"Callie Cartwig," he acknowledged. 

"It's been a long time."

But as they looked at each other, the three of them, reunited, it wasn't about Abby and Marcus, or Abby and Jake, or Marcus and Callie. It was three old friends, at diverging roads in their lives, coming together to stand over the fourth's grave. 

"Why don't we go back to my place for a while," Marcus suggested. "We can all have a cup of coffee. I know I need one."

"In Australia?" Abby mumbled. 

Marcus huffed a sort of humorless laugh. "I moved back six months ago."

"Oh." Abby felt stupid for having not known. "I..."

"That sounds great, Marcus," Callie cut in, saving her friend from having to reply. "Let's go."

As they walked, Abby cast a look back at the mount of dirt. No headstone yet, just an unmarked grave with her husband at the bottom of it. 

…

God, that day still bit into her. 

She'd never forgotten Jake. She'd loved him deeply and she would never have traded those years she had with him. 

But a small part of her had still wondered, during those years, what would have happened if Jake wasn't there. 

What would have happened if Abby didn't set that ring down on that table. 

And in the next years, over cups of coffee and stories of the years they hadn't spoken, Abby remembered. 

…

May 17th, 8 years earlier

"Harry Potter? All these years and you're still watching those movies."

"Harry Potter is a classic," Abby defended proudly. "Do you not own a DVD player?"

"Abby, we've been over this. I didn't even have a DVD player at seventeen."

Abby rolled her eyes. "What am I supposed to do with these? Do you have an external disc player for your laptop?"

Marcus sighed dramatically. "As a matter of fact, I know what you're talking about. Give me a second."

As he dove into a drawer full of tangled cords, he called, "Are you already training Clarke on Harry Potter trivia?"

"You know it. Draco Malfoy's her favorite character. I think I'm raising a Slytherin."

"But you're a Gryffindor," Marcus said. "Or are you a Ravenclaw?"

"I've always been a Gryffindor, as much as you're a Hufflepuff." She paused before adding, "Jake was a Hufflepuff too. I'd like to call Callie a Ravenclaw, but she's much more Slytherin."

"Callie." Marcus's face sobered. "Is she doing okay?"

"She handled the diagnosis fairly well. It's treatable," Abby said. "I've seen people come out of it alive. But...I'm worried."

"Me too." Marcus plugged the disc drive into the computer and typed in his password quickly. "Are we watching Chamber of Secrets or—"

"Absolutely not," Abby said indignantly. "We start with Sorcerer's Stone."

"Philosopher's."

"Shut up."

…

September 9th, 7 years earlier

"I'm thinking of going back to Australia."

"Huh?" Abby almost dropped the glass of water she was carrying. "Why?"

"I miss it," he said. "The kangaroos, y'know? And Sydney is so lovely. It's the blazing summers that are the worst. And the travel time is abysmal—"

"You're leaving."

He glanced at her, puzzled. "You say it like we're engaged and I'm dropping a ring onto the table."

That was a low blow, but Abby figured she deserved it. "I'm sorry for leaving you," she said gently. "Marcus, you're my best friend. You always have been. Those years not speaking—they never felt right."

"I'm sorry it had to be Jake that brought us together again."

Abby sighed. "Is it wrong that I think...he would have wanted this? For us to be friends?"

"Abby, we were never just friends. We've always been so much more than that."

Abby froze. 

A tiny corner of her mind knew exactly what he was saying and wholeheartedly agreed. 

The rest blared in panic. 

Marcus seemed to sense her mood and turned away, checking his phone briefly. 

"I should head back," Abby blurted. "Clarke—sleepover—her friend Octavia—"

"Of course."

She all but ran out the door. 

…

What had she been afraid of?

She'd since moved on from Jake at that point. Hell, she'd even considered dating again. It had been three years, and Marcus was literally her perfect match. 

And that's when she had known, she thought, gripping a tree branch as she clambered over a log. 

Marcus was the closest thing to a soulmate she would ever have. 

…

September 15th, 7 years earlier

LOOKING AT PLACES IN SYDNEY, the text read. 

She hadn't picked up his calls, or replied to his messages in a week, and she was starting to feel like the worst person on the planet.

The worst part was, she knew she was in love with him, as ridiculously and deeply as she had been when she was nineteen. Her feelings towards Marcus had never changed, even in their early forties, her with a dead husband and a nine-year-old daughter and him with a life on another continent. 

So she steeled herself, brushed her hair, tied her shoes and drove five miles over the speed limit. 

She steered into his driveway and barely checked to see if the car was locked before sprinting to his door and twisting the knob. 

As she'd suspected, it was unlocked, and she was half-caught by surprise when he was slouched in a chair by the kitchen table with his laptop open. 

"Well, I found a place—"

Abby bounded forward and snapped the computer shut. "You can't go to Sydney."

"Why?" He stood up to face her, still a full head taller. "Abby, I can't—"

"Because I love you, I am in love with you, and for the love of God, I cannot lose you again. I am not going to walk out like when we were twenty-seven because I was wrong, and you are the love of my life. I knew it from the beginning and I just...needed a reminder."

"Needed a reminder?" He barked a laugh. "Abby, you married someone else. You married Jake fucking Griffin. How was I supposed to feel about that?"

"You moved to Australia." Her throat burned. "You left me."

"You left that ring on the table."

"It wasn't the right time."

"No," he agreed. "It wasn't."

And then he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, his beard tickling her neck. Abby closed her eyes and leaned her head against his, remembering the last time they had done this. 

They had been so young. They had suffered no losses. 

And now, they were willing to try again. 

…

The lights of the building were beginning to come into view. 

Fate, Abby reflected, was bitter and cruel. Fate gave you everything you wanted and snatched it away. Fate made history repeat itself, over and over, just to make you pay for your sins. 

But, Abby supposed, she wasn't the one who paid the most dearly. 

…

April 12th, 2 years earlier

They sat together, feet entwined. 

They watched Clarke and her girlfriend bicycle up and down the street, yelling the whole way. 

They watched as the sun began to burn behind the pine trees in the forest. 

They watched as the birds who flew in the daytime returned to their nests for the night. 

Laughing, Clarke and Lexa dropped their bikes in the driveway and ran across the lawn, waving quickly at Abby and Marcus as they went by. 

"Clarke looks a lot like Jake," Marcus commented. "But she's got your personality."

"I'd like to think she's more stubborn than I am, but she's probably not."

Marcus cracked a smile. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't stubborn."

Abby elbowed him lightly. 

And they sat back again to watch the sun set below the trees.

…

Abby leaned against a tree to catch her breath.

Too late.

Far too late.

…

June 2nd, current year

“Is this Abby Griffin?”

“That’s me,” Abby answered cheerfully. “You’re Jackson, aren’t you? I’ve met you once or twice. Listen, if they need me for an extra shift, I can’t make it tonight—“

“Abby, we’ve got a body here.”

“Oh.” Abby frowned. “You might want to call one of the guys at—“

“Do you know a man by the name of Marcus Kane?”

Abby’s veins turned to ice.

Not again, not again, not again.

“Yes,” she answered through gritted teeth.

Jackson coughed. “Can you come down to Ward B, please?”

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Abby’s voice was edged with panic. “Marcus? You’re messing with me, right?”

Her eyes scanned the room for her phone, diving through her purse, forgetting it was in her hand already.

“Abby.”

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. She’d seen him this morning, smiling at her, kissing her briefly before walking out the door.

“Abby, are you still there?”

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” she said tightly.

It was a ten minute drive. She made it in four.

The boy met her at the door, walking her down the hall.

And there he was.

Not quite cold, not quite stiff. Dark eyes closed, hair still hanging in his eyes. Involuntarily, she moved to brush it back out of his face.

Her phone rang, startling her. She picked it up before she could think.

“Mom? You haven’t been able to reach Marcus, have you? Lexa wanted to talk to him about her paper for English, but she can’t seem to get ahold of him.”

Abby took a rattling breath. “Clarke, honey, I’m at the hospital.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you were working today. Listen, if you reach him, just tell him to email Lexa, okay?”

The line went dead. Abby stared at it.

“But Marcus is dead,” she whispered.

Then she burst into tears.

…

“Mom?”

It was dark. Abby looked up to see her daughter standing over her, the strap of her dress sliding over her shoulder. Adjusting the skirt of it, she took a seat on the log next to her mother.

“I’m sorry,” Abby croaked. “I—“

“Mom.” Clarke wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “I love you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I’m not just saying that because you’re supposed to say that about your mother.”

“I couldn’t even go to your sixteenth birthday party. What kind of mother does that make me?”

“He’s only been gone two months, Mom.” When Abby didn’t reply, she carefully ran a hand through the snarls in her mother’s hair. “I miss him too.”

“I don’t…” Abby took a deep breath to compose herself. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. “This isn’t like the first time. I had Callie then, before the cancer took her. I had your father. I’m the last one, Clarke.”

“You have me,” Clarke pointed out.

Abby pulled her daughter in closer. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

“Clarke?”

A familiar brunette with her hair falling over her face peeked around a tree trunk. “Hi, Mrs. Griffin. Everything okay?”

Abby exhaled and nodded. “I’m fine. Clarke, go on. I’ll be in later.”

“I’ll leave you to think a little longer,” Clarke said. “Don’t rush. Take all the time you need.” She stood up, taking Lexa’s outstretched hand. “Don’t stay out past dark though, okay?”

Abby gave her a small smile. “I’ll try.”

And then Clarke and Lexa were gone, and she was alone in the trees once again.

…

“Abby?”

It was officially dark, and she highly suspected that Clarke and Lexa were kissing in a secluded corner somewhere, and that was why Clarke wasn’t already worried that she was outside in the dark by herself.

“Abby.”

Okay, she definitely hadn’t imagined that voice. She glanced up to see a short figure with long, dark hair beside her.

“Did I fall asleep?” she whispered to herself.

“Does it matter?” Callie sat beside her, cross-legged, corporeal and solid. “I miss you like crazy, Abs. You’ve been having a rough go of it. I’m just sorry I’m not there to help you.”

“I…I miss you too,” Abby said shakily. A small part of her mind was screaming that this wasn’t real, that she was asleep, but she memorized every detail of her friend’s face.

“You have Clarke, though. She’s gotten so beautiful, hasn’t she?”

“You irresponsible parent. I can’t believe you haven’t background-checked our daughter’s girlfriend.”

Abby started as another figure joined the circle. A blond one, with a wide smile and sparkling blue eyes.

“Jake.”

“Abby.” He leaned forward and took her hand. “You haven't changed at all.”

Abby ran a hand through her hair. “Jake. I…”

“I’m not your soulmate. I know,” he said gently. “I knew you and Marcus were meant for each other. It just took me…well, my own death…to see it.”

“If it helps, it took that for me to see it too,” Abby whispered, trying to stem the flow of tears.

“Don’t worry,” Callie said, reading the question in Abby’s mind. “You’re not dying. Not yet. You’re stronger than that, Abby Griffin. You’re stronger than us.”

“I don’t want to be stronger than you.” Her voice hitched. “I want to be with you.”

“I’m always with you.”

A gentle hand on her shoulder made her swivel as another figure sank down beside her, gently brushing her hair back from her face.

“Marcus.”

They were in a circle now, all of them smiling at Abby, all of them young and carefree and beautiful. 

“I love you,” Marcus said. “I’ve loved you my whole life, and I still love you. I’m always with you, Abby.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Abby whispered.

“Why do you think we’re here now?” Callie tossed her hair. 

“Aren’t you all just figments of my imagination?”

“It doesn’t matter what we are.” Jake leaned back against the tree behind him. “Everything is a product of your mind. If you think you’re saying goodbye, then you really are.”

Abby glanced up. Marcus was looking at her the same way he always had, the same way she looked at him: like she was something he knew like the back of his hand, and yet still different enough to be something complex and ever-changing. Even at fifty years old.

“I miss you,” Abby burst. “I love you. I love all of you.”

“We’re always with you,” Callie echoed.

Jake smiled at her, squeezing her hand. 

"In peace may you leave the shore," Abby whispered. "In love may you find the next."

Callie took Jake's other hand, and Marcus's. "Safe passage on your travels."

"Until our final journey to the ground," Jake continued.

Marcus's hand slid into Abby's, completing the circle. "May we meet again."

"May we meet again," Abby echoed. 

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. "We will."

A flashlight cutting through the trees made Abby snap to attention.

The interlinked hands were gone. Callie’s smile was gone. Jake, leaning against the tree, had vanished.

“Mom?” Clarke’s worried voice broke into her consciousness. “Mom, are you ready to come in yet?”

Abby took a deep breath. Exhaled. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I think I am.”


End file.
